


By the Order of Sappho

by electricmisso



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, River Song is a pussy hound CONFIRMED, a bit extra, a bit soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 22:26:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18838012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electricmisso/pseuds/electricmisso
Summary: "They had done this all before, in another life. The idea of River Song showing the Doctor how it’s done, as it were, was not a new one. But now, when their two chests touched, it was with complementing womanly curves. The same could be said of their lips when they kissed, their two pairs of soft lips caressing with a gentle intensity. The new and the old, the fear and the comfort, the infinite realm of love amongst beings, always filled the space between them."





	By the Order of Sappho

It had arrived in a gilded envelope, swirling in soft clouds of tufting pink and lavender. It even smelled of violets, but not strongly, so that only those who already knew of its presence could detect the scent. The Doctor had hastily placed it under the console of the TARDIS when it had arrived weeks ago, not forty-eight hours after her regeneration, and hoped it would go unnoticed by her new cohorts; time and space travel brought up enough questions without having to explain interplanetary post delivery. But she hadn’t forgotten, the smell of its garden, or the clouds calling her into the sky.

 _She._ The Doctor was still getting used to that; adventures with her three new companions, helping them acclimate to space and time travel, had been distraction enough from this most recent transformation. It was different from her previous go-arounds, tremendously so, no matter how much she wanted to move past that simple fact. The Doctor’s core was made of justice; while she knew in her hearts that walking through the universe as a woman should be no different than the past twelve times as a man, that didn’t make it true. She was looked at differently; she’d even been occasionally oogled, something she had no intention of getting used to. The Doctor’s formative experiences in this body had been somewhat unnerving, and settling into it was taking longer than usual.

But the team would never see that of course, not when there were adventures to be had. And yet now, as she’d left her three humans to recharge in Sheffield, the scent of that gold and spun-sugar envelope grew so strong that it could no longer be ignored. She retrieved the dispatch from its hiding place, reconsidering its exterior for the first time in weeks. There was no recipient addressed; what if it were meant for Yaz or Ryan? Or even Graham - far be it for the Doctor to question him for receiving something fluffy and pink. But it couldn’t have been; they hadn’t been travelling in the TARDIS long enough for the post to register their location, and they hadn’t smelled the flowers. So the Doctor ran a finger along seam of the envelope, hearing the faintest sounds of strings as it opened, and read:

_By the Order of Sappho, the pleasure of your company is requested upon Star Date 869214SL6, in the Flying Temple of Aphrodite, Galactic Coordinates 477-2625493°YC. Your attendance is mandatory. Dress Code: Skimpy._

It was quite odd, she thought, for an emergency decree from Sappho to arrive in the post, as opposed to a detectable distress signal, but if anyone would favor drama over haste, it would be the Ancient Greeks. 

But the _why_ of a call had always been the last of the Doctor’s concerns; _where_ are they, _when_ are they and _how_ fast can we get there took precedence over whos and whys. And the one thing that the Doctor could recognize coursing through this body, through any body this being had ever inhabited, was that devilish curiosity, always nudging the Doctor to _go_. And so, she went.

The trip was quick, if bumpy. The TARDIS seemed to be taking extra care to land at the exact specified coordinates; they were going to be entertained by one of Greece’s most famous poets, after all. Entertained, or detained, or assailed. Regardless, accuracy was key. The doors opened upon a set of marble steps, but they were still floating, as instructed, above Earth, and what looked to be rocky Greek shores; the steps, and wherever they led to, were ensconced the same pink clouds that had carried the Doctor’s invitation. 

As she ascended the stairs, a chorus of delicate instrumentals began to manifest. The steps led to a hall without walls or a roof, a sheath of marble among the clouds in a bright blue sky. The music came from a dozen lithe women, draped among various lounges, and covered in skant pastel fabrics, each strumming a golden lyre. _That cannot possibly be the proper playing stance,_ the Doctor thought to herself.

It was a living scene rendered quite like a painting, as if someone had envisioned the women of antiquity and rendered them from fantasy - someone with quite a flair for theatrics.

In the center of this room of lounging beauties was a singular woman, a beacon, resting on a chaise, back to the steps. All the Doctor could see was a form draped in bright white linen, and a crown of golden curls illuminated by a far-away sun. With a few stairs remaining, the Doctor froze in place.

_“River.”_

The woman didn’t turn around. “Is that you? Is that the new voice?” River’s was the same, filled to the brim with cheek and mirth.

“Is it really you? Are you really here?” The Doctor moved closer, filled with questions; hows and whys did matter when it came to River. 

“It has to be.” River’s posture was taut with excitement. “If you sound this sexy I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle what you look like.” She radiated desire, a state they’d both grown so comfortable living in together. Her shoulders were thrown back with confidence, but there was a tinge of anticipation in her voice, one that signaled hope, or trepidation, or both.

“River, please.” She was only feet away now, stopping short of making contact. 

Finally, after seconds that felt like eternities, River stood to face her wife. 

She was radiant as ever, cheeks flushed with joy and wonder. She examined this new Doctor, her new Doctor, and cupped the other woman’s face in her hands.

“Well, ‘Hello, Sweetie’ won’t do anymore, will it?” She beamed. “Hello…. _gorgeous._ ” 

Familiar lips searched for new, but the Doctor dodged the kiss quickly.

“River,” she uttered the name again, to ground herself in its reality, its presence. “Why are you here? How are you here? How am I touching you?” She wove their fingers together; if they could touch, this had to be real, or something close to it.

“In every way that matters, my love.” River smiled, bringing their bodies flush together, moving her lips along the patch of neck right below the Doctor’s ear. “You smell delicious. Different, of course. Less musky. Softer.” 

Feelings began to murmur low in the Doctor’s abdomen. _Those_ feelings, the ones that River was the universe’s foremost expert in conjuring, the ones this body was wholly unfamiliar with. But before the Doctor could succumb, she was overtaken with panic.

“Stop,” the Doctor said, extricating herself from River’s grasp. “This can’t be happening. This has to be some sort of trap. How do I know you’re really her?”

“Well, I suppose I could try and touch all of your secret sweet spots, but I don’t know where they are on this body quite yet.” Her lascivious grin practically doubled in size. “That’s what this meeting is all about.”

“No, this meeting is about Sappho.” The Doctor took a tone quite unfamiliar to her wife - emphatic, serious. “She summoned me here, but then I find you. It just doesn’t make any sense!”

“Why are you worried about sense at a time like this, my love?” She scoffed. “I suppose it’s a bit flattering - the idea that if some malevolent alien force wanted to ensnare you, you’d be useless against the sight of me in a toga.”

Mischief quirked at the corners of River’s smile; _this should feel good, this always feels good, us misbehaving together,_ the Doctor thought. But something wasn’t right, and she took one step back, cautiously, away.

River’s shoulders began to slump, her assuredness quietly dissipating. “This isn’t what I wanted to happen.” The sadness in her voice was quickly overtaken by frustration. “There you go again, thinking too much and ruining my plans.” 

“Could we just...slow down? Talk a bit? Fill me in on this plan of yours?”

River moved return to her glamorous chaise. “It’s not easy pulling off a grand romantic gesture for an omnipotent time traveller, you know.” When the Doctor moved to join her, she could see her wife’s face was rather peeved. “I planted that envelope in the library decades ago. The tech wasn’t cheap, and neither was all this marble!”

“River, remember when I asked you to slow down? About two seconds ago?” For the first time in years, she was stung with the pain of seeing her wife distressed. “Please, just talk to me.”

It was hardly ever easy for them to meet each other in the middle, find one another on the same page, in the same book even. But they were so close now, close to understanding, converging on the same point. And it was River who’d apparently worked so hard to bring them here, together.

“I knew this would happen one day. I mean, obviously,” she gestured to herself. “And with you, it was just a numbers game. A matter of time.”

“I still don’t know what you’re on about.” 

At that, River’s eyes moved up and down her body as if to suggest the obvious. 

“Oh,” the Doctor added. “Right.”

“I imagine this must be a curious change to experience. It’s no big deal and yet it’s absolutely the grandest deal you could possibly imagine. And I know you - I assume you’ve barely stopped to look at yourself since regenerating.”

“Plenty of other people have,” the Doctor muttered under her breath, the words spilling out before she could think to stop them. River’s eyes grew wide at the thought of lecherous cretins treating any woman like an object, much less the woman she loved. “But it’s been quite nice otherwise, promise. And you’re right, of course; I really haven’t noticed it much.” It was a half lie - she had noticed it just as much as she’d ignored it.

“But it deserves to be noticed, my love, by someone you trust.” Her words were teeming with empathy. “And I can’t make the bad parts go away. But I can show you some of the good parts, that I know you’d be too stubborn or frightened to explore on your own.” 

She’d become somber, but roguish eyes began to glimmer as River told the story of her plan. “So, years ago now, I planted that envelope inside a Peladonian encyclopedia set I knew you’d be too sentimental to throw out. It was designed to ‘send’ once it detected female pheromones piloting the TARDIS. Ones other than my own, of course. So I built this temple, and carved out this pocket of time just for us. To give you anything you might need.”

The Doctor was amazed, gobsmacked even. “You...you built this?”

“Well, I put all the elements together in one way or another,” River answered, as her wife’s look of amazement gradually descended into consternation. “I might have...borrowed a few columns from the archeological centre in Delphi.” She cut the Doctor off before she could interject. “Don’t! It was only the few. For the sake of historical accuracy. I filled in the rest with some slabs from a Fired Earth warehouse.”

“I take it you stole those as well?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t actually want to hear the answers to, sweetie.”

“And the...musicians?”

“AI mannequins from a 35th Century shopping quadrant. But I programmed them to play the lyre and wrapped them in a few sheets, so it really is _quite_ DIY.” Another glare. “I said the tech was expensive, not that I actually paid for it.”

“Well, that bit’s for the best; wouldn’t want any actual lyrists catching a chill on my account.”

“Which reminds me,” River interjected. “I see you didn’t follow my dress code orders.”

“It took me long enough to pick out this wardrobe. Would’ve taken me a century to choose something...skimpy.” The Doctor had missed this, the rhythm of their back and forth. Flirting with River was like slipping into a well-worn suit.

“It’s not as if I ever expected to you to listen” She grinned. “Besides, I’d be able to see how marvelous you are even if you were wearing a high-necked burlap sack.” 

The comfort began to disappear for the Doctor when she became an object of desire. 

“This is much better, of course. _Love_ the pops of color.” River crooked her index fingers around the Doctor’s new suspenders, but at her pull, she could feel the other woman seize up, out of a most unfortunate fear, and she let go.“Could you...could you please just tell me what’s wrong?”

“River,” she said, smiling, “this is...amazing. And incredibly thoughtful. But it still feels a bit...fast, is all.”

“That was never a problem before. What’s changed? Besides the obvious.”

She had to search for the right words.

“That you’re gone, River.”

They both paused.

“I’m right here. I don’t know what you mean.”

“This isn’t what we do, River; we don’t move all of time and space just for a quick shag. I suppose we could have, and I would have enjoyed it thoroughly, but it’s always been more than that, our love story.” River let out an infinitesimal gasp at the Doctor’s use of that word; it always pebbled underneath the surface, so rarely spoken, and impossible to forget.

“But I thought that story was over. And I don’t know what this is...an epilogue? An appendix, even? Getting to see you again, touch you again, is incredible. But I thought we closed that book, and it would hurt too much to open it again...just for this once.”

River had listened intently, and remained solemn throughout. “You really know how to kill a mood, don’t you?” 

But she could lift the Doctor as much as she could anchor. 

“Firstly, I reject the puritanical notion that our naked bodies spending quality time together is not worthy of an epilogue. However, you will not be forced into anything you don’t want.” She lifted her chin with haughty sarcasm as she returned to the chaise with crossed arms. “But we’re already here together. I’m sure if you poked around the TARDIS you could find a deck of cards. Or perhaps one of the robots could give us lyre lessons.” 

“We could talk,” the Doctor added, sheepishly. “I think I’m still good at that.” 

This softened River a bit. “Doing something a lot doesn’t make you good at it, but go on.”

“So...” she said searching, “what’s with the Grecian theme? I mean, marble is a bit hip at the moment, but it’s not as if you have any attachment to the ‘moment’ I’m referring to. Besides, I thought Byzantine was your favorite.”

“What exactly are you on about?”

“You know, all the marble and lyres and Sappho stuff. Don’t get me wrong, the toga is nice, but standard lingerie would’ve done just fine. And if you were going to commit so thoroughly, I could’ve done with some baklava.”

“You…” River paused and sat back up, her eyes darting around the temple, “you think I did all of this because I like Ancient Greece?”

“Well why else would you do it?” 

River smiled, that bright, mischievous smile the Doctor had so missed.“It’s good to know you’re still an idiot.” And even with more feminine features, the Doctor’s offended face remained the same.

“Excuse me! What is it about then?”

“If things had gone according to my plan, right about now we’d be honoring the good name of Sappho, lavishing each other’s womanly bodies with our poetic tongues. But,” she retreated, “someone decided to go all prudish on me, so I suppose I should just scrounge up an order of Baklava instead.”

The Doctor was both scandalized and astonished. “You cut a slit in time and space, stole a bunch of robots and marble, left me a years-long trail of breadcrumbs, all to….what? Celebrate the prospect of lesbianism?”

“Now you’ve got the idea!”

“River, this is absurd! Even for you.” 

The Doctor was not angry, never could be with River, not truly. She was, however, prone to exasperation. “Why is it so important to you? That I’m a woman?” _Was I not what you wanted in those other bodies?_ she thought.

“You really have to ask?! Men are….lovely, to a point of course. Especially when _you’re_ one. But **women** ,” she gushed. “We’re just superior in every way, aren’t we? Even the people who like men know that. You’ve been a purveyor of fine women for hundreds of years, so I imagine you agree. Every kind of woman: soft curves, broad shoulders, long hair, short hair, lips. God in heaven, _lips._ ” She was practically beside herself. “Each is a true wonder. So for it to be your turn now, it’s not so much important as it is...wonderful.” 

Every person’s flirtations, romantic platitudes had an element of performance, even River’s, perhaps the flirtiest and most romantic being the Doctor had ever known. But the light behind her eyes in this moment was beyond real, her musings genuine.

The corners of the Doctor’s smile angled upward again, if only for a moment. “That’s quite lovely, actually. But,” she sighed, “I’m not the first female time lord, and I certainly won’t be the last. So it feels a bit...grandiose to be getting this sort of treatment.”

“But darling, you’re my time lord. And the love of my life taking the form of the most gorgeous species in the whole of the universe? That’s worth moving time and space for.” 

For the first since she’d arrived in this floating temple, the Doctor felt the need to move in for a kiss. The only thing that held her back was having just more-or-less told River that she’d rather not.

“Finally. I wanted to see what the new smile looked like.” River’s own smile finally matched her wife’s, and both of let themselves relax into their lounge.

As the tension between them eased, River filled the silence. “In fact, it wouldn’t have surprised me if Sappho had turned out to be you all along.”

The Doctor scrunched up her nose in confusion. “How do you mean?”

“Well, we know so little about her. Most of her poetry is lost to time. She’s quite an enigma, a lot like someone I know. Seems like a charade you might have cooked up on a lark.”

“Even if I had, it never would’ve worked,” the Doctor replied. “I’ve always been much better at talking over writing. Couldn’t have made it as a poet.”

“Well aside from that, she did always have a need for female companionship. Remind you of anyone?” She had leveled out the standard tone she always took with her Doctor now: amorous and a bit smug. “She was quite taken with Aphrodite; wrote a hymn to her even.” River was inching closer, but without touching, challenging the Doctor’s boundaries while still respecting them. “And who could blame her? The divine paragon of feminine beauty.” She turned the wicked glint in her eye onto her wife. “Sounds like someone you might like.”

“I’m sorry, are you equating yourself with Aphrodite?”

River chuckled. “Would you expect any less of me?”

“Never.” The Doctor’s smile grew. “Spoken like a true goddess.” Their lips were mere whispers apart.

“Please kiss me.” There was the faintest hint of desperation in River’s voice, a rarity for such a proud and confident figure. “Don’t make me beg. I’m not as good at is at you are.”

The Doctor didn’t move. “I’m petrified.”

“Of what, my love?”

“Same as always: that I’ll disappoint you.” She was too embarrassed to look River in the eyes, glancing down at the space between them. “You’ve built this all up, like it’ll be perfect and epic, but I’m still just me,” she brought gaze up to meet River’s again, “an idiot just trying to impress the most beautiful woman in the universe.”

“You can’t expect me not to kiss you if you talk like that.”

“Could you? Kiss me, I mean. I’m not sure that I can move to be honest, and -”

Even the gentlest of kisses from River was powerful. But when she grasped the Doctor to cut off her babbling, the pure vigor of it made the Doctor’s mind go blank. As their lips moved together in time, the familiarity of River’s kiss calmed her enough to reach out and lightly brush her fingers at River’s waist.

“Still scared?”

“Of you? Always a bit, healthy amount I’d say, just to be safe.”

“Oh, shut up.”

They reconnected giggling, with a lightness, their heavy reunion kiss out of the way; they both preferred levity in their time together, a contrast to the darkness and danger they often faced in the vast universe. Being kept on her toes by River Song was the greatest solace the Doctor had ever known, her abandon the most comfortable place she’d ever settled. 

She continued to relax into River as they kissed, shifting them closer to the edge of the lounge. As the Doctor’s hands circled behind River, she grazed a hidden switch near the edge, and at the flip, both sides of the chaise extended, creating a larger-than-king-sized bed, on which they were now perched.

The Doctor cackled at the madness of her wife’s ingenuity.

“You really have thought of everything, haven’t you?”

River appeared a bit embarrassed; she had no intention of taking advantage of her Doctor, and didn’t want it to seem as such. “That was only supposed to happen once we...got going. I’d never want to put you in an uncomfortable position.”

“You’ve put me in plenty of those over the years.”

“You know what I mean. It’s just…I’m not interested in pushing you farther than you’d like to go. We only put this bed to use if you want to.”

“I think…..” the Doctor hesitated. “I think I want to”

River tried not to look too ecstatic. “What made you change your mind?”

“Well, it’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind, is it not?”

“Is it a woman’s prerogative to take off her coat?”

The Doctor slipped of her trench and tossed it to one of the lyre players, who caught it handily.

When she sat back down, River kissed her again, this time navigating her lips down and along the Doctor’s jaw, moving to kiss her neck. And as they embraced, River once again hooked each of the Doctor’s suspenders, dragging them down her arms. But as she shook them loose, River could feel her wife tense up again.

“We can slow down, my love. There’s no rush.”

“No, no, it’s just….” she hesitated, mildly embarrassed. “No one has seen me….you know, except for the TARDIS of course. But I suppose we should just get that over with quickly,” she mumbled sheepishly, moving to take off her shirt, but not fast enough.

“Would it help if I…..?” River dropped off sexily, pulling down the strap that held up her toga to reveal her naked chest. The Doctor had etched these breasts into her memory, their tone and their weight, and had missed them terribly. But she hadn’t been prepared to revisit them just yet.

“No, River, it would not help!” she cried, as River appeared surprised and dejected. “I didn’t want to compare my…..bosoms to yours, but now I can’t help it!”

“Darling, please just relax, I’m sure yours are perfect. I would like to take them for a test drive, but…,” she was practically salivating, but attempted to maintain decorum, even while topless. “I know I am quite a specimen to behold, but so are you! You’re beautiful, my love. All I want is for you to feel secure.”

“Ha! I haven’t even been a woman long enough to know what to be insecure about.” 

“Not a thing, my love. You are perfect.”

“Mine are….on the small side, I know that much. Especially compared to yours.”

“Small, big, green, hexagonal, I don’t bloody care!” River’s hands moved under the Doctor’s untucked shirt, crawling up her torso. “They’re yours, which means I can make you…”

When her hands made contact, tweaking a nipple, the Doctor let out a long-contained and guttural moan.

River grinned. “....do that, with my hands, and my mouth.”

The Doctor was now, _finally_ , in a haze, that familiar fog of desire that pervaded the air whenever she and River were alone together. Just looking at her wife, thinking about her in the abstract, had filled her with dismay; _how could I ever be beautiful enough, shag or kiss well enough for her, be the woman she deserves?_ The Doctor thought. But when they were joined together, the insecurity melted away. 

“Are you all right? River inquired, hands stilled on her wife’s chest.

The Doctor quickly dispensed with her shirt. “More than.”

“I wouldn’t have assumed you for a braless wonder,” River chuckled, “but I’m happy about it all the same.”

“I did try it for a couple of days, it was a bloody nightmare! I felt like a right pin cushion.” She could have prattled on, but the feel of River’s hands snapped her back into focus. 

“We can go as fast or as slow as you want,” River reassured her.

“Maybe you should be in the driver’s seat for this one, eh? I’m a little all over the place and I...I trust you.”

River rolled her eyes and sighed. “Once a bottom, always a bottom I suppose.”

“Oy! I’m being vulnerable, I don’t need you making fun of me!”

“Relax, I”m only teasing,” she said with a smirk. “I think you know I like being in charge.”

The Doctor lay back, resting on her elbows, nervousness still resting in her shoulders. She was still afraid, of being exposed, of taking this next step, of disappointing her truest love. 

But River was home; there was no one who could make her feel more comfortable in this moment, or allow her to enjoy it more. The Doctor, still distracted by her wandering thoughts, stared as River stood above her, shimmying the last remnants of toga down and off her legs.

She leaned back down to her wife. “Lift,” she instructed, which the Doctor obliged, canting her hips so that River could drag her trousers down and off her legs.

River could have taken command from here swiftly, made quick work of the deed.The nervous part of the Doctor wished she had. But instead, she laid down next to her scared, brilliant woman, skin to skin.

They had done this all before, in another life. The idea of River Song showing the Doctor how it’s done, as it were, was not a new one. But now, when their two chests touched, it was with complementing womanly curves. The same could be said of their lips when they kissed, their two pairs of soft lips caressing with a gentle intensity. The new and the old, the fear and the comfort, the infinite realm of love amongst beings, always filled the space between them.

River clutched the Doctor’s face with both hands while they kissed, so she would know, without a doubt, that she was safe, and that River was holding on.

When the kiss stopped, they remained together, foreheads touching. “Damn, I’ve missed this,” River said.

“But isn’t it different?” _Isn’t different what she wanted?_ the Doctor thought.

“The lips are a lot softer, yes. But you still know what I like,” a peck, “how fast to be,” another, “how rough,” and another, “just the right amount of tongue.” They laughed together, still impossibly close.

“I haven’t changed,” River said looking up from below her fluttering lashes. “But you have. The outside, at least.” She began to slither down the Doctor’s body, kissing bare flesh as she went. “I have to learn what this form likes, what buttons I can push.” She nipped a spot just to the right of the Doctor’s navel, making her twitch with pleasure. “I’m _very_ much looking forward to our first fact-finding mission.”

She had quite handily slipped between the Doctor’s legs, resting there comfortably on their newly acquired expanse of mattress. It was always a view the Doctor had enjoyed: looking down to see River’s golden curls and bright eyes, ready to pounce. But she now found that view obscured by the plains of her own breasts. She had only seen herself naked in this body while changing clothes and bathing - it hadn’t been imbued with sex as it was now, together with River. In her wife’s presence, it was becoming less frightening and more intoxicating.

“Would I be correct in assuming that you haven’t touched yourself since the regeneration?”

She hadn’t, of course. “Do you really think I’d slow down long enough for that?”

“I only ask because...it might feel different. I want you to be prepared.”

She scoffed “I know about clitorises, River. Or is it clitori? Gosh, that makes it sound like some sort of species we might-”

“Doctor! Focus.”

“Sorry. I just meant that...I’m quite familiar with what’s about to happen.” She eyed River saucily. “I’ve done it to you enough times, haven’t I?”

River eyed back. “But you’ve never been on the receiving end.” She would not be out-vamped on this day. “And I wouldn’t get to cocky, my love. When I’m between a woman’s legs, she won’t be able to stay cheeky for much longer.”

She kissed the Doctor’s inner thigh, inching ever closer to her center. Foreplay and anticipation weren’t unfamiliar concepts to the Doctor, but the prospect of River and the multitude of new sensations left her heart hammering.

“May I touch you, darling?”

“Please.”

River’s fingers skimmed her gently, and only outside, which was all she needed to be struck dumb. It was not wholly unlike her previous bodies’ forays into pleasure, but it did feel _deeper,_ less sharp and external, as if every ounce of feeling she possessed collected in her abdomen. creating a storm inside of her. It wasn’t until River’s fingers began to move completely without friction that she realized how wet she’d actually become. River touch was ever so slight, yet she could feel a rumble emerging deep in her core.

“How does this feel, then?”

“Very nice.” The Doctor’s eyes were beginning to flutter shut, overwhelmed at the sensations.

“Look at me, Doctor,” River said, causing her voice to refocus. “I want you to watch this part.”

Before she could interject, their eyes locked, and River swathed her tongue over the Doctor’s clit. While she expected to illicit pleasurable sounds, the mix of shock and pleasure left the Doctor with a wide open mouth, releasing what River assumed was a soundless moan.

It was quite a feeling, of course. But in addition to the sheer physical ministrations, the sight of River Song performing cunnilingus was truly a wonder to behold. River always attacked her adventures with enthusiasm, relish even, and appropriately took to pussy as if she were racing a spacecraft or winning a joust. It was always a gift to watch River attack, but even moreso to be her objective.

The Doctor was vocalizing steadily now, and more loudly, as River continued to lick and suck. She’d gotten used to the new voice, same as always, but hearing herself moan for the first time was somewhat mystifying. The entire thing would be an out of body experience if River weren’t there, keeping her grounded, holding her.

“Darling, can I put my finger inside you?”

“Yes, god yes.”

The truth was, for as much as this very prospect had excited and frightened women for centuries (including the Doctor, in the brief moments she thought about it at all), River’s digital entrance hardly registered; she’d done the appropriate diligence to get her wife as wet as physically possible to enhance her pleasure. But even so, River could feel the tightness, the swollen sex that surrounded her. Turning the Doctor on had always been an area of expertise, but feeling it in this new way was making her just as wet.

The Doctor could sense a shift when River began to massage, to _push._ She’d touched the same spot of River’s many times before, but she had not anticipated the pure pleasure of feeling it for herself. 

But as always, feeling was one thing, and River was everything; she was inside, outside, now, here.

She knew that, most of the time, women reached climax more slowly, and sometimes with more difficulty, than men. She hadn’t considered that the sight and feeling and sheer presence of her wife would be so glorious. So when the muscles surrounding River’s finger began to contract, surprise mixed with the lust and the heat she felt coursing through her veins. She threw her head back, let her loudest moans free as a futile attempt to relieve the outstanding pressure. But River continued pushing and licking, coaxing the orgasm to its conclusion. 

At least the Doctor thought it was a conclusion, but her body disagreed, continuing to quake and quiver.

River crawled back up the Doctor’s body, gently wiping away the sweat that had collected on her lover’s brow. The Doctor, meanwhile, was still coming down from climax. Her spasms continued, slowly becoming small tremors, while River comforted her.

“How long does this last?” she asked, still panting.

“You might feel the pulsing for a few more minutes.” Her lascivious grin returned. “Depending on how wild I decide to be next time, you might feel it for a whole day.”

“I didn’t realize it would be this...fatiguing,” the Doctor replied while trying to steady the rhythm of her breathing. “Just give me a few minutes, then I’ll be ready to return the favor.”

“Oh no no no, my love. You just relax. There’s no rush to reciprocate.”

“But...but I want to!” The Doctor’s attempt to mask her anxiety was shaky at best. Truthfully, she didn’t want their time together to end. When would they get another chance?

But River was still relaxed, languid, the picture of post-coital bliss. “It’s like you said; you’ve done this to me plenty of times before. Not that I don’t want to see that pretty blonde head between my thighs. But I need you well-rested if you’re going to perform to my high standards.”

Her mood turned quickly, from saucy to wistful. “And even so, maybe I should be a bit more withholding. It would give you a reason to find me again.”

“River,” the Doctor held both sides of her face, “I never need a reason to find you again. You are reason enough.”

“I’m glad we agree on that.” She nestled into the crook of the Doctor’s neck. A comfortable silence began to wash over them as the Doctor recovered from their encounter. 

Until River interjected. 

“You know, I’ve never had a wife before. It’s quite nice so far.” 

The Doctor paused. “You...you’ve never had a wife before?”

“Why? Do you know something I don’t?

“No, no. It’s just…” she considered the truth carefully, mindful that River’s entire reality, and therefore her own, lay in the balance. “...you mentioned something once on Da-”

“Don’t!” River shouted, stunned for the first time on this rendezvous she’d so meticulously planned.

Both sets of eyes were wide, with realization, and possibly a bit of hope. 

“Don’t say a word, my love.” Her eyes shimmered. “This isn’t the last of us, Doctor. I’m sure of it.” 

The Doctor smiled, and their lips found each other once more.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so very much for reading! i thought i'd give these two a try as there is not nearly enough fic for them and then FIVE MONTHS LATER this behemoth is finally finished. special thanks to [se7ensecrets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/se7ensecrets) for setting a desperately needed second pair of eyes on this, and to [fictorium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictorium) for answering my questions about where UK-based humanoid aliens might acquire marble. 
> 
> follow me @electric-eccentricity on tumblr if you're interested in more gay river song worship content. and, like, other generalized gay worship content.


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